• I know that if everyone had a father like my father there’d be No Sorrow in this world. And have no sorrow for my Father. Remember him whenever you see any man whose greatest pleasure was simply to be with his family
happier times

my dad on one of his happiest days, crazy shirt & all

 

  • thanks to the NYPD honor guard for escorting my father, he was proud to be counted among such a fine group of professionals. He rose quickly to the rank of detective because his life and actions were in keeping with the highest virtues of the department. Honesty, Bravery, Loyalty and Dedication. He was especially proud of the people he worked with and was a team player. He was incorruptible.
  • I suppose the biggest case he worked on was Son of Sam where he was part of the team that matched up the parking tickets, which is what cracked open that terrible case and bought a measure of justice. That guys still in jail.
  • More amusingly he was also was part of the police detail for the Beatles at Shea Stadium. I’m sure he considered them a bunch of british weirdos and couldn’t wait to go home, have a beer and listen to the clancy brothers. Ask my Uncle Jerry to tell you that story. He embraces the beatles later in life.

 

  • My Father’s gift was not some kind of unique quality to him, it was simply that he  had the characteristics and qualities of all good men, but in greater proportion.
  • Upright and true. Charity was his hobby. He was always looking to help his fellow man and derived pleasure from it. He was a member of the Knights of Columbus from age 17 which was where a lot of his charity happened.
  • My father never let obstacles prevent him from fulfilling his goals, he was his own worst critic. He also wasn’t afraid to ask for help when he needed it. Emotionally, my mother was his rock and he was always thankful for her
  • bought home a yellow rose to my mother every payday and some other days too just because he had class and appreciation. When i started working he told me to make sure i also bought a rose for my mother every payday. Thats the sweetest rent i ever had.
  • He graduated high school in 1957 and became a Bank Teller! Thats impossible to imagine. I gotta imagine he hated it too because he turns around and joins the Army. Ironically this keeps him OUT of Vietnam, He loved his country and served well but always expressed gratitude that he had been spared any kind of combat. The worst thing he fought was boredom in the Azores thankfully.
  • I’m glad he decided he would have a family rather than joining the clergy and that he chose us as that family. he was a truly great father and he enjoyed being a husband and a dad. Maybe that’s why he was so good at it
  • My dad was a man of actions and few words.
  • It was my dads faith and honesty that first caught the attention of my mother. Then she also noticed he was quite handsome with a self assured air and boundless optimism. Cool as a young Steve McQueen.
  • Their love grew and endured through 48 years and would have lasted forever.
  • My father knew true love in his life and my mother never left his side during his many trips to the hospital, advocating for him, especially after he no longer could do so for himself. she deserves a medal. Certainly no one ever meant it more when they said ‘I Do”. Everyone should know this kind of love, few are so fortunate. Her dedication over his long decline and many medical problems was nothing short of heroic. She never put herself first and made sure my dad was as well taken care of as possible. She was Guardian to his dignity.

 

       To think of my dad in his happiest days would bring to mind the 1970’s where he had cool sideburns and some of the greatest, loudest, craziest suits ever, plus some super psychedelic ties. Every once in awhile some disco sunglasses to go with it too. He carried his service revolver in a sort of monogrammed Flower Power holster that must’ve freaked criminals out if they could take their eyes off his crazy ties! My dad could do things with maroon that just should never have happened. In the summer he’d pair kelly green shorts with a hunter green polo. He looked like Conan O’Brien but with a sorta catholic school haircut and the suits of Tom Willis from the Jeffersons! Funny, goofy, filled with mirth. He came home every day smiling and you’d never know he had such a stressful job.  Sometimes in his sheer passion for life he could show great levity,like shouting the chorus of “Talk About Pop Music” out the sunroof of his car, with that brooklyn meets boston  irish american accent, just filled with happiness. And always the greatest joy on his face when he would be anywhere near my mother, his Queen. Later in life my sister and i would get him cool hip hop sort of tee shirts that together with his brooklyn hat and love of overisized jeans made him the first ever Ironic Dresser.

 

 he literally glowed with happiness when my sister keri was brought to us by the kindly Father Peter Higgins, completing his family of choice. He was Living his dream and was so fulfilled.  The road to this adoption hadn’t been easy or cheap, he didn’t care he loved being a dad and couldn’t get enough.

I want everyone to know how great it was to be his son and to have him as my best friend, it’s the only way i knew him.

  • I can still remember hearing the distinctive sound of his VW Bug approaching from a block away and running downstairs excited that my dad was home just because he was so loving and pleasant. I can still see him getting out of that car shouting greetings to all kids and and their parents. he loved all you kids so greatly like honorary  little nieces and nephews.  I think maybe this was because he was a happy approachable adult who was still always a kid at heart.  We had such outstanding families on the block. The Scalises, Burkes, Pumas, Rizzutos, Santomeros and Gregories just to start and more. He was a big part of what made our block such a great place to grow up. If you stretch it out to childs and rose you have so many quality people, even as far away as poorly named pansy avenue.

 

  • he promised me when i was about 6 he would always be there for me and he always was. I could tell him anything He was caring and dedicated as a father. If his idiot son and his friends wanted to play their guitars all night that was fine by him, he never complained he needed to sleep… and we werent always that good either!
  • Three people who taught me the meaning of cool as a kid were Captain Kirk, Harrison Ford and my dad.
  • The only two people i ever heard my father speak ill of were Felix Milan and Daryl Strawberry. Apparently “Lack of hustle getting paid big bucks to play a kid’s game” was something he just couldn’t stand. That’s a complete list. Sometimes he loved Strawberry too, so maybe only Milan or possibly Billy Martin if he hadn’t been fired yet. 
  • Loved words and prose, a big reader and occassional finisher of books
  • He loved everyone but chose his friends carefully, be honored to be among them

 

 So many great memories growing up, him taking me and my cousins denise and michelle to see the 1976 king kong at the bellerose theater and he was so great no one cared the movie redefined awful.

He would take me and my uncle paul all the way to new jersey to see the devils despite a perfectly good hockey team 20 minutes away. i think he just wanted an excuse to meet up with jerry and my uncle ron and still see a game. He loved to be surrounded by family and friends at a game.  We saw the ‘Mickey Mouse Game” where we beat Edmonton! He always said ‘The Devils are the only Irish owned team in the league and pat verbeek is a great player!” Lets go devils, i will always think of him when i see the logo. The Jets too. He was loving out Irish qb this year.

 

He was above all things a lover of life. He danced well, sang badly, laughed loud at any joke and delivered his own jokes so poorly it was actually funnier than the joke itself if told well

 

In 2000 we went to yankee stadium for a game against the hated red sox.. me, my dad the closet yankee fan in full brooklyn dodger war gear, my uncle paul and dads close friend frank smith all went and it’s a memory that sort of crystalizes all of it. My dad danced to his own beat just like every day. After convincing him a 40 gallon fishing cooler was never gonna make it into yankee stadium my uncle paul and i snagged a flyball near the bullpen manny ramirez hit during BP. Minutes later it bore the signature of derek jeter and dad and i cherished it ever since.  He was enjoying the day just because he was with some of his favorite people. True to his unique nature he gave me and my uncle paul a 90 minute heart attack during his “short cut” through the south bronx and uptown manhattan. Frank accepted his fate stoically. So we we were all gonna die, no sweat. My Uncle and i were as scared as little girls. Dad laughed like a jackal at us, that was my dad.

He never stopped laughing.

Remember my Father, Keep him in your hearts, always.

 

 

 

(NOTE- the bartender at the after party was, in the greatest of coincidences, a surviving victim of Son of Sam.)

 

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